


Getting to Know You

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-30
Updated: 2004-10-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Companion piece to "Out of Options", this time from the point of view of one John Fitzgerald Byers.





	Getting to Know You

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Getting to Know You

### Getting to Know You

#### by Shamrock

  

    
    
         TITLE:  Getting to Know You
         AUTHOR:  Shamrock
         FEEDBACK:  Hey, feedback spawned this entire
         story - see what a little encouragement can
         do?  Send it to:  
         ARCHIVE:  ITAK; others, please ask.
         FANDOM/PAIRING:  Lone Gunmen, Byers/Frohike
         CATEGORY:  Slash
         RATING/WARNINGS:  NC-17 (yeah, baby!)
         SUMMARY:  Companion piece to "Out of
         Options", this time from the point of view of
         one John Fitzgerald Byers.
         SERIES:  The Warm Universe.
         SPOILERS:  "Tango de los Pistoleros".
         DISCLAIMER:  So not mine.  So CC's, Fox's,
         and 1013's.  So not fair.
    

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is all Alison's fault. I had only the barest of visuals in my mind for the Byers/Frohike scenes in "Out of Options" until she gave me some very nice feedback and said she wanted to see the parts that Langly didn't get to. And suddenly, I kept getting these visuals . . . anyway, it's _her_ fault. (Big thanks, Alison!) 

Also, big thanks to J.D. Rush for the wonderful beta and all her suggestions and comments. It works considerably better due to her influence. So, here's to you, hon! 

Once again, this is part of the Warm Universe, but is pre-"Someplace Warm", before Langly makes it a threesome. 

* * *

"Johnny?" 

"Yes?" I reply curtly. I know my voice is cold. I don't care. We don't keep secrets from each other . . . or at least, _I_ don't. Frohike apparently doesn't feel the same. And damn, it hurts. So much. 

"Look, babe, I'm sorry. I - I honestly -" 

"Is that story done?" I ask, cutting him off without so much as glancing at him, pretending to be intent on my monitor. "I need it by three." _I can hurt you, too, you know._

I know I'm being spiteful. I know it's unlike me. But I'm having a hard time even looking at him without seeing him with Mykita. Seeing him twirl with her out on the dance floor, seeing him hold her . . . . I never even knew he could dance before that. 

I never even knew he could dance. 

"Byers, wouldya forget the damn story?" he half-growls, spinning my chair around to face him. I close my eyes. Can't look at him. Can't do it. If I look - even just one look - then I'm lost. "I'm trying to apologize here -yet _again_." Close, he's so close, he smells so good, so familiar. Been so long since I could drown myself in that scent. "Would you stop being so stubborn? God, what more can I do?" I keep my eyes clenched shut. I can feel his breath on my skin - his warm, coffee-scented breath. 

I push him away, hard. One more second of that, and I'd be kissing him. And I'm not finished being angry and hurt yet. 

Sulkily, I get up out of my chair and stride a few feet away. Suddenly, his hand is tight on my arm, tuning me to face him again, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. 

Hurt, fear, anger, love. It's all there, shining in his eyes. And I'm torn - I want to forget all about this and take him in my arms, but I also can't get past the fact that there was something that big in his life that I didn't even have the slightest hint existed. 

_Dammit, Mel, why didn't you ever tell me about her? About the tango? Why'd you feel the need to keep it from me?_

"John," he whispers, pleading with me. Tears start to burn my eyes as I feel my heart split in two. Something has to give . . . . 

**_CRASH!_**

I spend a few moments panting, not believing I just threw Langly's keyboard on the floor. Frohike's eyes blaze in utter shock and anger at my stubbornness - that determined gleam is there now. I'm just as angry, just as hurt, just as determined not to give in. 

I can't do this. I - I can't face him like this. I want to kiss him, and I want to smack him. I have to get away from him. I break the gaze and storm off to my room. I really need to be alone, need time to think. 

I'm leaning against the bureau, bracing myself with both hands and breathing very hard, when my door crashes open. "What the hell -" I hear Frohike's voice, and whip around, ready to demand that he leave. But then I catch a glimpse of Langly's long, golden hair as he charges in behind Mel. 

Before I can wonder what's going on, Frohike and I are handcuffed to my bed, and Langly's standing over us. I glare at him and open my mouth to tell him off, but he stops me. 

"Hey, man," he says, holding both hands up, "I didn't _want_ to get involved. But I'm not gonna let you guys tear each other - and _us_ \- apart. Work . .. through . . . it," he grits out. 

"Get these things off of me, Hairboy," Frohike growls, tugging hard on the cuffs. I whimper as they cut into my wrist, and I hear him groan. 

Langly shakes his head. "Uh-uh." Frohike starts trying to hit him with his free arm, but our long-haired partner stays out of his reach. "You guys might as well get on with it - those cuffs aren't moving until you can at least be _civil_ to each other," he says, with a slight edge to his voice. I feel a stab of guilt - I hadn't even stopped to think what this feud might be doing to him. But then I feel the cuffs cutting into my wrist again, and my irritation returns. 

"Langly, this really isn't any of your business," I inform him, fighting to keep my voice even. 

"Like _hell_ it's not!" he snaps, eyes shining with pain behind his thick glasses. "You guys are my best friends, and you're ripping each other to _pieces_! You _made_ it my business! You both care _way_ too much for each other to let what happened in Miami screw it up. And I care too much to _let_ you. So, you can stand there until you disintegrate, or you can kiss and make up. Bond over how you're gonna get back at me for pulling this stunt - I really don't care. Just . . . find a way through it, all right?" 

He heads for the door. "Langly, wait!" I cry. 

"Get back here, hippie-boy!" Frohike growls, swiping at the air again. But Langly's gone, closing the door behind him as he goes. 

With a long sigh, I flop onto my bed, purposely taking up the edge so Frohike's stuck standing up. I cross my free arm over my chest, trying to act like having him this close isn't driving me insane, the desire and exasperation in me warring for dominance. 

Frohike glowers down at me, and I can feel his eyes burning over my flesh. "Damn, John," he murmurs. "Whydda have to be so stubborn?" 

"What else don't I know?" I snap at him. He blinks, slightly taken aback. I swallow hard - I want this to be over, want to be curled up in his arms, but I just can't do it. I have to know. There's so little he doesn't know about me - he could write my biography seamlessly. And up until Miami and Mykita, I would have thought I could do the same for him. 

"Nothing. I swear." 

"Nothing?" I raise a disbelieving eyebrow. 

"Nothing," he repeats firmly. He sighs. "Look, baby, I never tried to hide it from you, I -" 

"You just never mentioned it," I reply, my voice going icy again. I don't want his excuses - Melvin Frohike is a master at spinning tales, and I know him too well to fall into that trap. I just want that feeling back, the certainty that I know my lover again. Not this - this doubt. I don't want to doubt him anymore. I need him to make that go away. 

"It never came up," he says quietly, insistently. 

"Never came up?" I ask, incredulous. "Frohike, how - how many times did we ask why you were so uncomfortable being in Miami? It may not have come up before that point, but you avoided the issue at every turn down there. It wasn't until you were practically forced to confess that you finally broke down and told us the truth. Why _is_ that?" I beseech him, needing to understand. 

He makes a gulping sound and looks away. "Byers . . ." he starts, and I recognize that tone - that fight-or-flight instinct. He doesn't want to be having this discussion, and I feel the irrational anger well up in me again. 

"If you can't trust me enough to tell me, then maybe we _should_ call it quits," I say darkly, glaring up at him. My calm demeanor belies the racing of my heart - my pulse is pounding so hard in my ears, I can barely hear anything else. God, I don't want it to be over. I love him. But it just feels like there's something more here, and if it concerns him so deeply that he's guarding it like this, then I have to know. To get back to feeling like I know him inside and out again, I have to know. 

"Quits?" he replies dangerously, eyes sharp with anger, pain, and fear. 

" _Quits?_ " he repeats, louder and more intensely. I meet his eyes defiantly. 

" _Langly_!" he shouts at the door. 

"Let us _out_ of these things!" I add. My voice sounds so loud to my ears, but I know it's not. I feel like I'm drowning.   
  

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Shamrock


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